


All the little things

by Fangirl_in_black



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cute, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, basically just fluff, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_in_black/pseuds/Fangirl_in_black
Summary: All the things John's thankful for. Spoiler: it's mostly SherlockJust fluff, tooth rotting fluffEnjoy!
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 15





	All the little things

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Please comment, kudos, that stuff. I love feedback ( I wrote this at 3 in the morning so it may make no sense) but hey! thanks for reading <3

John's POV  
There are so many things I'm thankful for. Sometimes they're big, monumental even, but usually they're small. The things I take for granted, mostly.  
I look at my beautiful, wonderful consulting detective and I realise how thankful I am for him - and how full of wonder I am that the world brought us together. How we never let each other go. 

I'm thankful that whenever I want, I can lace my fingers with his pale, slender ones and graze my lips against his knuckles. And he'll smile at me for being such a hopeless romantic, and raise a teasing eyebrow, but it doesn't matter because I love him so, so much. 

I'm thankful that I can go with him on cases, and make eye contact with him across a bloody crime scene. In a glance, he'll say 'Solved, John.' or 'About to kill Anderson, need restraint before I smash his smug face in' and I'll shake my head and bite back a grin and come over to him. He'll look up and peck my cheek and though I can see Greg averting his eyes and mumbling something along the lines of ’Jesus Christ, get a room', I kiss him back, because Greg can go to hell as long as I have Sherlock. 

I'm thankful that I can ruffle his curls and stroke his head in my lap when we're watching trashy late-night TV and he's looking at some new case files. It annoys me how he patently isn't watching, but can somehow reel of what has happened in the past minutes of whatever game show we're pretending to watch. Every so often, he'll wordlessly hand me a case file and it'll be an interesting homicide or a suspicious suicide and I'll read it and put it to the side, saved for tomorrow. I'll keep running my fingers through his hair and we can just be together. 

I'm thankful that when it's rainy we can walk along the grey streets of Central London, talking and laughing and feeling so at home. We don't ever make the decision to hold hands, but it happens by itself. Sometimes people follow us, fangirls taking pictures; but long ago we decided we would just ignore them. We're in our bubble, safe from them and everyone else. Sometimes he brings an umbrella, but sometimes we just let the rain plaster our hair down, even his resilient curls dampened. I think he looks cute like that - he thinks he looks ridiculous. When we're out I can rest my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm round his slim waist and we can pretend we're just one being. 

I'm thankful that we can live together, laugh together. I'm thankful we love each other unconditionally. 

I'm thankful I get to grow old with Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
